She Makes Him Feel Human
by Book-BoyObsessed956439
Summary: In The Descent. What if Elena's hug had been the thing to break Damon Salvatore's walls?


**DISCLAIMER: I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_or any of it's characters, I am simply playing with them!**

**BACKGROUND: Takes place in The Decent. The beginning is a lot like the show, but it gets better, trust me. :]**

* * *

Rose squeezed Damon's hand, whimpering slightly and burying her face in his shirt. Damon's heartstrings tugged uncomfortably and he stroked her hair with his free hand. "Shh," He said softly. "Shh, you're okay."

She looked up at him, her face pale and her eyes pained. She regretted killing that man and his girlfriend, and who knows how many others she killed tonight? They were all so innocent, just humans out and about. Why did she have to kill them?

Damon could almost see the pain radiating off of her, it was killing him inside that she was dying and he was helpless to stop it.

Rose grinned. "Who would've thought you of all people would be a nice guy?"

He scoffed. "_Please_. I'm mean, and I like it."

She giggled softly at his tone. "No, you're a sweetie."

Damon made a sarcastic sound of agreement and kissed her forehead. "You sleep now."

As she drifted off, he did what he had done to Stefan too many times to count; he compelled her dream.

_ Fields, trees, horses. She loved the smell of horses._

_

* * *

_

Rose's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was the soft grass tickling at her bare toes. Hadn't she just been bedridden? She inhaled, smelling horses and fresh spring flowers. How was this possible? She started walking up the hill, touching the velvety nose of a white mustang as she reached the top. She looked around, completely awestruck. Was she dead, perhaps? Did she make it into Heaven? She looked down the hill for more horses, and saw a man in all black, sitting with his legs crossed, looking out to the slowly churning river at the very bottom.

She tilted her head to the side and lifted her dress; she remembered wearing this as a human. She ran slowly down the hill and slowed when she reached him. "Damon?"

Damon grinned up at her and she shook her head in shock. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, which made nerves slam into her stomach. Was he dead, too? What happened? "I'm conducting this dream, I came to see you."

Her body relaxed and Damon smiled at the thought of her being worried about him. She was lying in his lap, dying, and she was worried he could be hurt?

The thought made a dull ache in his chest flare up.

She sat down next to him and inhaled happily. "I missed the sun, so much."

Damon had begun to wonder why he didn't force Bonnie to make Rose a protective ring. Why he kept her confined to his house when the sun was up. Could he really be so selfish?

"How did you know?" She asked. "About this place?"

"I'm psychic," Damon said sarcastically, and she snorted. He grinned and finished, "You told Elena."

She grinned as she leaned into him, his arms wrapping around her protectively, holding her close to him. Her hair, much longer now, tickled at the skin where his shirt was riding up. Her dress flowing in the grass, the way she was smiling, how she snuggled into him like he was her life source; he noticed it all.

She laid her head on his chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled good, sweet yet masculine. His lips, resting on her hair, made her feel loved. She knew he didn't really love her that way - the way he loved Elena - but she liked the feeling.

Rose was the one to break the comfortable silence. "The pain is gone."

Damon smiled the slightest of smiles. "I'm glad."

Damon would never say it aloud, but he believe Rose's pain had been transferred to him. True, he had not been bitten by a werewolf, and he would hopefully never have to, but his chest had a dull ache, and a burning fire, and a terrible squeeze. It was awful to feel this way. To feel lost, alone . . . and helpless . . . was not something Damon enjoyed.

Rose smiled and sat up, looking up at him. "Do you think I might see my family? My friends?"

Damon didn't know. When he died the only thing he thought of was Katherine, he never saw any "bright light" or "angels". He inhaled and said, "I think . . . you can see whoever you want to see."

Rose seemed to get happier. "Maybe I'll even see Trevor!"

Damon just nodded.

Rose stood up, nearly shaking with anticipation. "Want to race to the trees?"

Damon snorted. "Want to lose?"

Rose rolled her eyes playfully and quoted herself, "I'm stronger and faster," with a smirk.

"I'm the one who made this dream," Damon said, hopping up to his feet. "I can cheat here."

Rose shook her head. "One . . . two . . . three!"

Rose took off down the hill, and after a moment she noticed Damon wasn't tailing her, playing with her. How far ahead was she? She turned her head, looking back to see where he was and she saw the whole seen slip away, tears falling down Damon's face. She blinked as the scene changed and looked around, a new scene. And she heard Trevor's voice call out, "Rose? Is that you?"

* * *

Damon's hands shook as he grasped the stake, holding it above Rose's chest. This is for the better, he told himself. She is so much pain. She's happier there . . .

Rose's body wheezed and Damon swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Her dream voice sounded in his mind; she sounded fine, why did he have to do this? Why?

"_One . . ._" Rose started.

Damon clenched his fists around the wood; he wouldn't let her live in pain. He couldn't do that to her.

"_Two . . ._"

The tears began leaking over and he drew in a gasp, forcing his dream self to smile and play with her for now. The lump was growing larger and larger.

"_Three!_" Rose took off down the hill.

Damon tightened his arms as she looked back, slowing down slightly, wondering why he was just standing there. His smile fell and tears followed, proving he was heartbroken. He slammed his arms down and felt her body convulse in pain as the stake pierced her. His lip quivered and he hugged her limp body tightly, breaking down and sobbing into her hair.

Elena walked in the door silently. Stefan wasn't home; he was looking for Isobel, thinking she was the key to saving Elena. If Katherine had an honest bone in her body – which she didn't – Isobel knew how to keep Klaus out of the town.

She closed the door and walked over to the couch, looking at the various glasses and the bottle on the table. Damon drank a lot, and when he wasn't here drinking he was at the bar. Elena felt like she was left out of something lately, like Damon had some huge secret he wasn't telling her. He had seemed so different since Stefan and he had saved her from Elijah, Trevor and Rose. It was hardly a week ago, and Elena had noticed the sudden change in the eldest Salvatore; he was drinking more, he was near brooding, and Elena caught him staring at her sadly. Like there was something he was waiting for her to say, to reply to.

She'd been having dreams recently; dreams that Damon was the one who came into her room in the middle of the night and gave her necklace back. He had stayed and said something to her, but that part of the dream became fuzzy and his voice had dropped to a low growling noise. He had cried gently, tears teasing at his eyes, and when the first one fell, he was gone.

She shook her head. She didn't know how she got her necklace back, guess it didn't matter now, right?

Damon stormed down the stairs, his eyes red rimmed and his face pale. When he saw Elena, he tried furiously to wipe his face clear of all emotions and his walls snapped up, circumscribing the tears.

But Elena could tell. "She's dead, isn't she?"

"I told you to go home," Damon growled coldly, walking toward the bottle and glasses Elena had been studying earlier. "Go home."

"I went home, Damon," Elena informed him. "I was worried about you, so I came back."

"Why worry?" He asked, throwing down the scotch, it feeling as though he dropped a match down his throat and loving it. "I'm fine."

Elena pushed on. "Come on, Damon. Don't shut me out, please."

Damon shook his head and repeated, "Go home, Elena."

She mirrored his action, shaking her head. "No, Damon. Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk, Elena," He snarled.

She took a step toward him. "Please."

"No!" His voice was growing louder and lower the more she pushed him. Elena knew he was hurting, she wanted him to admit it . . . to tell her, to confide in her. She didn't know why, but she wanted desperately to be there for him.

"Don't pretend not to care," She begged.

"I don't," He growled stubbornly.

Elena sighed sadly. "Damon, I know you're hurting now. I know Rose made you feel better, she pulled you out of this little . . . funk you're in. Please, tell me. Let yourself feel."

Something inside of Damon snapped and he slammed his glass down on the table, rushing in front of her with an evil look in his eye. "Dammit! I feel, Elena! Is that what you want to hear? That I killed her to save her and it almost killed me? That I don't want to open up to you, because the last time I did you were too damn shocked to comment? Fine then, that's true. I feel, okay? And it sucks!"

Elena shook her head, stopped by one sentence. "What are you talking about? You've never 'opened up' to anyone; especially me."

Damon snorted bitterly and tried to ignore how her breath, teasing at his collar bone, drove him crazy inside, and how he wanted to pull her into him and crush his mouth to hers, tell her all over again how he felt. So, heartbroken and feeling he had nothing more to lose, he blurted, "I did so. I told you I loved you, and you didn't even respond. Just stood there, staring, wishing I would leave."

_Okay, that was a lie_, he thought. If he had wanted, he could've kissed her perfect lips and not her forehead, could've stolen her heart from Stefan and made her fall in love with him, but he wouldn't do that to Stefan. Ever. Not that it mattered now, she didn't remember. He kind of wished he hadn't compelled her to forget, but that would've put her in a tough spot, and he didn't want to ruin her life like he ruined everyone else's.

Elena's jaw went slack at the words and she heard Damon's voice in the back of her mind, her dream soaring though her minds eye.

_'I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you, that I can't be selfish with you . . . and you can't know this, because I don't deserve you . . . Stefan does. He needs you . . . I need you.' _He ran his hand through her hair. _'God, I wish you didn't have to forget this.'_ He kissed her forehead, sending shivers down her spine. _'But you do . . . I'm sorry.'_

Elena shook her head, wondering how he was able to compel her after she had some of Aunt Jenna's vervain tea. "I didn't want you to leave, Damon."

Damon's eyes became hard and he shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

Elena looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to believe her. "I remember, Damon. You told me you love me, and how you don't deserve me, and you kissed my forehead, and you told me how you need me."

Damon's fear shined in his eyes, making him look and feel completely vulnerable and weak. How was it possible she could know? Her necklace was off, he knew because it had been in his hand when he said everything, when he compelled her. He clipped it around her throat when she said, "You were never here," in a hypnotized voice. He shook his head slightly. Rose was dead, Elena had to think he was pathetic, and if Stefan found out? Stefan had tried to kill him once, what's to say he wouldn't do it again?

Damon was frozen in front of Elena, looking scared and helpless. She wondered if he had looked this way when he was human, because she thought he looked younger now, like a frightened little boy. She didn't know what to say now that she remembered his confession, but the maternal instinct took over in her and she wrapped her arms around him. She realized how tense he was then, how every muscle seemed to be stiffened inside of him. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

He drew in a shaky breath as her arms tightened on him. She made him feel safe, and that scared him even more. His walls were shaking hard, threatening to fall down like a poorly constructed house of cards. He felt bad, just standing there letting her give the one sided hug, so he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. It was like the ceiling fan had been turned on and his house of cards shattered, and he let out a sob.

Elena's eyebrows shot up and her eyes became the size of dinner plates. Damon Salvatore . . . was _crying_ . . . on _her shoulder_. She moved her arms up slightly, letting his arms squeeze her tight enough to press the air out of her. She wouldn't say a word that she couldn't breathe; she would hold her breath to the point of suffocation before she forced him into breaking this embrace.

_What in the hell am I doing?_ Damon thought subconsciously. He was sobbing to Elena, his walls piercing his heart and making him break. That's what it felt like anyway, as if he had crumpled into a million little pieces at her feet. His legs felt weak underneath him, but he wasn't about to collapse to floor. He felt one of his 'cards' pierce something in his chest again and his shoulders convulse with the sob that came out.

Elena felt his whole body shaking and she almost started crying with him too. He let out another cry and she wondered how long he'd been carrying this around with him. He loved her. And secretly, even though she hadn't ever been able to admit it to even her diary – _herself_ – she loved him too. He pulled back then, covering his eyes with his hands, pressing his fingers down. Elena rested her hands on his biceps, trying to get him to look at her. She didn't know why, but she had this feeling in her stomach, quickly making it's way up from her gut to her heart, from her heart to her throat. When Damon looked up at her and swallowed hard, letting out a slight whimper when he drew in his breath, the feeling was dancing on her tongue, and she blurted, "Damon, I need you too. I _love_ you."

He clenched his jaw to keep it from falling slack, but even he knew the shock was in his eyes. He watched her face in the moments after, she didn't cringe away from him, didn't avert her eyes. Those shy chocolate orbs remained locked with ice blue ones, and he wasn't planning on breaking the gaze anytime soon. She was staring at him, waiting for him to say something, but he was speechless. He opened his mouth to try to speak; only squeezing "Elena…" from his throat. He didn't have words, so he snaked his hand up from his side and put it to the back of her head as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.

Elena gasped slightly and melted into him. His lips moved on hers so perfectly and so in sync, she couldn't believe she was able to push him away. She moved closer to him, pressing her stomach to his. He wrapped his other arm around her waist to press her against him with more pressure. Her feet were barely touching the ground anymore, due to the angle she was held in. She had one hand on the back of his neck, touching his soft hair, and the other rested on his hard chest.

Something animal took over inside Damon and he pulled Elena into a position where her feet were no longer on the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he rushed her to the couch, slamming her down. She let out a small gasp and pulled him down onto her, to which he let out a low growl, kissing down her neck.

Elena shivered as Damon pushed her shirt above her head, kissing down the hemline of her bra, nipping at the wire before kissing down her stomach. She entangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at it slightly. Damon moaned and kissed back up to Elena's neck, and she threw her head back, giving him full access. He felt the veins under his eyes explode, pulsing rapidly. He wanted to taste her, to claim her in such a way, but what if he hurt her? He bit his own lip, drawing blood for a moment to bring him out of it. By the time he had kissed back to her stomach, the wound had healed.

"No," Elena said. Damon's mind froze, walls lying in wait to pounce onto him and squeeze his swelling heart back down into the cold, small box he had stashed it in for years. He looked up as Elena continued. "Don't stop. Do it."

Damon shook his head, confused. Wasn't that exactly what he was doing? _It_.

"Bite me," Elena said, her voice had a gruffness about it Damon had never heard before. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, pulling his head down to her throat, and she squeezed her thighs tightly on his waist, making it impossible for him to move without hurting her. He hesitated a moment, demanded it from himself he would not hurt her – _ever_ – and sank his teeth down.

Elena nearly screamed in pleasure. Her entire body felt as though it was lit from the inside, sending flames of passion down her spine, thighs, and stomach. She arched up slightly, only to be pinned back down by Damon's demanding hips. His lips were pressed so hard onto her she thought she might break. It was so amazing. Her heart was pounding so fast and so hard she was sure Jenna could hear it, half way across town.

Damon's whole body was shaking with the anticipation and pure adrenaline from the blood sliding over his tongue and down his throat. Her body pressed up into him, making every muscle in his body hard. He grinded his hips down into her, pinning her body to the couch. She moaned at the friction and the pleasure of him drinking from her.

When Damon pulled back, Elena was almost disappointed, even though her vision was doubled and she couldn't tell you her last name right now.

When Damon saw her eyes glazed over he went into a panic and sank his fangs into his wrist, yanking almost every vein open, and pressed it to her mouth. He hadn't meant to hurt her. _Dammit!_ He thought. _Why did I do this?_ He shivered slightly when Elena began sucking down on his skin hard, and all his worried thoughts vanished.

At first the blood had choked her and she felt like she was drowning in the sweet flavor that was Damon Salvatore, but then she figured out if she swallowed, she felt even better then when he had drank from her. She had drunk from Stefan, but it never felt like this. Maybe it was because she had always been hurt when he drank, or distracted. But she was so close to passing out when Damon pressed his wrist to her mouth, all she had been thinking about was him.

Damon moaned and rested his head on her shoulder, trembling in pleasure as Elena took blood from him. He closed his eyes, trying not to rip off anymore of her clothing. He wanted her, every single inch of her and it _wasn't_ because of Rose and it _wasn't_ because she was Stefan's. It was because he loved her, he had loved her for a long time now, and the lust part of that had taken him over.

When Elena pulled back, it was Damon who was light headed, and she took advantage of that. She gripped his shoulders and managed to throw him down to the couch, laying herself in between his legs. She sat up slightly, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his rock hard chest and abs. He laid his head back, letting Elena have at him. If anyone else was in this position, he would show her where they should be, which would most likely be in the ground the following day. But this was Elena. And – for some reason he could not pin point – he liked feeling vulnerable to her.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his stomach, causing him to shiver. She kissed downward, unzipping his jeans and tugging at his boxers with her teeth, getting a loud moan out of him. She dragged kisses across his stomach, kissing to the side of his body and nipping at his ribcage.

Damon moaned and arched his back slightly as Elena kissed up his chest and neck, grazing her teeth across the artery there. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, giving her better access. He wanted her to bite him, and he wanted it _badly_. Yes, he was still dizzy from the blood drinking no more than two minutes ago, but if she did that to him? He shivered at the thought. Almost as if she were on queue, she dug her teeth down, cutting the skin, and starting drinking again. He moaned louder then, his hips jerking upward to hit hers. He would've sworn he felt her lips curve in a smirk.

Elena pulled back after a moment and pressed her lips on his, loving how in control she was. He shivered underneath her and wrapped his arms around her waist, making her smile. She pulled back slightly, and he forced himself not to follow her, but she saw him round his back to follow her lips and grinned again. She ran her fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes. She had meant to be a tease, making him wait for what was surely coming, but he trusted her so much right now it was insane. He had to be dizzy from the blood loss, and she was now straddling his thighs and pinning him to the couch, and he trusted her enough to close his eyes? The thought made Elena's heart swell and she started brushing kisses across his eyelids, cheeks, forehead, anywhere her lips could touch, they did.

The change from Elena being so aggressive to so gentle made every muscle in Damon's body relax. He leaned his head back again as Elena started kissing down his throat and let out a quiet moan. After it slipped, he got scared that he might have just ruined this, but, indeed, it slipped. And he couldn't take it back. "I love you, Elena."

She froze and looked up at him, and he let out a sigh and looked up at her. He looked so vulnerable right then, so young, Elena tilted her head to the side, which made him grin slightly. She reached her hand up and ran her fingers on his cheek, but he didn't close his eyes this time. His curious look turned to one of pain, and he broke their intimate eye contact, mumbling, "Sorry."

She shook her head. "No, no Damon. I . . ." She bit her lip, the realization hitting her. She had said it before they started this, but she had thought it was out of lust. But seeing him like this, things started running into her mind.

How when he and Stefan had rescued her from Elijah, Rose and Trevor, she secretly wanted to run into Damon's arms, but Stefan grabbed her. How she was hoping they would be going to a motel in Atlanta until Lee came and ruined the moment. How she felt that little surge of jealousy when she found out Damon had wanted to kiss _her_, and it was Katherine. How she felt like she'd let the greatest thing in her life slip away from her when she saw how he looked at Rose. How when he leaned in to kiss her forehead, on the night that was not supposed to be in her memory, she wanted him to kiss her _lips_.

She knew why she forgot now. It was almost like how she couldn't remember a detail from the car crash that took her parents – it was too traumatic for her to realize she was _not_ in love with Stefan, but his older brother. It was too traumatic for her to admit she was just like the first Petrova doppelganger, that she was Katherine; only the brothers were switched for Elena.

"I love you, too, Damon," she stated, her voice creaking.

Damon looked shocked she said it to him, he had been waiting for her to get off him and find her shirt, slap him probably, and storm out and back to Stefan. But he didn't expect her to look like she might start crying. He sat up, the room tilting a little, and pulled her close. She sniffled slightly and he stroked her hair. "Elena, what is it?"

"Am I Katherine?" She asked in response.

Damon shook his head, growing more confused by the second. "What? No. Why would you even think that?"

"It's just . . ." She sighed, hating how her voice would hitch at such random times. "Katherine strung you along, when she was in love with Stefan. And I'm doing the same thing to Stefan." She buried her face in his bare chest, and he felt her tears sliding from her face onto his skin. "What am I going to tell him, Damon?"

Damon had forgotten all about his younger brother, and he didn't have an answer as of what to tell him, but he knew they shouldn't be sitting here. With Saint Stefan's perfect timing he would walk in, see Elena and Damon like this, and do something crazy. Damon scooped Elena up suddenly and she squeaked, hiding her face in his neck. After he kissed her forehead, and told her she was okay, he zoomed at a vampire speed out the front door, across town, and into her house, zapping into her room before Jenna or Jeremy (or Alaric, if he were there) could see her current attire.

Once he got up to her room, he set her down gently on her bed and started rummaging through her drawers for a pajama top. When he came up with nothing he just sighed and took off his button-up, turning around to see she was staring at him. He cocked his brow at her playfully, trying to cheer her up slightly. "What?"

She immediately flushed a bright pink color and her eyes shot up to his face, and she wiped her face. "Um…"

He snorted. "Like what you see?"

She giggled softly and nodded. "Maybe."

Damon chuckled and handed her his shirt. She stood up and slid her pants off, and then Damon found himself staring. She cleared her throat playfully, and it was Damon's turn to blush.

"You're cute when you blush," she told him, which just made him blush harder, and she giggled.

"Hush, now," He said, falling down onto her bed and sliding his own jeans to the floor, kicking off his shoes. Elena gawked at him for a moment and he chuckled, sitting up and pulling her down, forcing her head down onto his chest as he stroked her long, brown hair. He felt her eyelashes tickling his bare skin as he pulled the sheets up to cover them both, closing his own eyes when she moved and buried her face in his neck. He had expected her to start talking about Stefan again, but she passed out into a quiet slumber moments after.

Damon had been plagued by nightmares all night, he had woken Elena once with his whimpering, and she kissed his face until he moaned and relaxed again. But now, early morning, he was trapped in his own mind by yet another nightmare.

* * *

_Rose was glaring him down. "You son of a bitch, it was supposed to be you who died!" _

_Her skin was gray and covered in veins, the stake piercing through her heart and her blue nightgown, her lips dripping in blood. Her appearance made Damon's heart ache all over again. "I'm sorry."_

_ "It was supposed to be you screaming, crying in pain. You were supposed to die! It's not like you have any life anyway!" She yelled, ignoring him._

_"I have Elena," Damon spat back, trying to hide his emotions. "She's all I need, and she's all I'll ever need!"_

_Rose scoffed. "Right, as if this won't happen . . ."_

_"What the hell are you doing in my bed, Damon?" Elena screamed, the scene changing from Damon's room to Elena's._

_ Damon tried explaining, but got slapped across the face by her so hard he stumbled backward and fell to the ground. Suddenly, Stefan was there, behind her, glowering down at him just as Rose had. Elena clung to him, claiming she had no idea what happened even though she was wearing his shirt._

_ "Elena, please," Damon begged, unable to hide the pain after last nights events._

_ "Shut up!" She hissed at him, and Stefan leaned down and sent a blow to Damon's stomach, causing him to grunt and curl in on himself._

_ "What did you do to her?" Stefan shouted, sending another blow to his face. "What did you do?"_

_ "I . . . I . . ." Damon was at a loss for words, still clutching his stomach in pain as his jaw throbbed. "I'm sorry. Elena, I'm sorry._

_

* * *

_

He jerked out of it, and Elena groaned tiredly, her eyes fluttering open. "Damon?"

"I'm sorry," Damon repeated, shifting as if he should get up.

"What?" Elena's hands clung to Damon instinctively; she instantaneously was wide-awake with worry. Had she done something? "No. Don't go. Please?"

Damon furrowed his brows, and when he spoke he sounded so sad Elena's heart nearly shattered. "Are you . . . are you going to turn on me? With Stefan, I mean."

Elena looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Damon looked at the floor, his dreams still shaking him. "Are you going to tell Stefan I did something to you? Something wrong?" She caught him looking nervously at the wound on her neck, and her lack of a necklace.

Elena didn't understand where Damon was coming from, but she just shook her head. "No, Damon."

He relaxed a bit, but still looked upset. Elena leaned down and pressed her lips to his, and he moaned softly. She kissed down his jawbone and throat, brushing her lips on his chest and stomach, earning her all his back arches and quiet moans. She kept kissing him – his ribs, arms, hands, hips, stomach, chest, throat – until she got back up to his lips and kissed his face, noticing he had never looked so calm in the whole time she'd known him. She loved that she could do this to him, and smiled as he looked up at her with half lidded eyes.

"I love you," He said simply, closing his eyes again.

She leaned down and whispered her response, lips brushing against his as she did so, before pressing her lips down fully onto his. "I love you, too."

He slipped back off into sleep, and she kissed away all the fear that might appear his face, and calmed him when he flinched. He was peaceful at the moment, and she kept touching his hair, moving it through her fingers, not believing how soft it really was.

No, she didn't know what she was going to tell Stefan. No, she didn't know how he was going to react. And no, she didn't care about that at the moment. All she cared about was Damon, and that she was going to be his as long as he wanted her, and as far as she knew, that would be forever.

She would be his forever.

**

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**So, did you make it down to here? I hope so! :D I would be so sad if you got bored in the middle of the story and left. :'(**

**Please tell me what you think of it in a review, it makes me happy to know you read my story! I feel like I have fans then, teehee. :]**

**Anyhow, thanks for reading! Love you guys!**


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